


The Kids Are All Right

by smollander



Series: Hearts Like Ours [1]
Category: FFXIV, Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Dumbasses of Light, F/M, Families of Choice, Female Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Gen, Hyur Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Male Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Miqo'te (Final Fantasy XIV), Original Character(s), Other, Patch 5.0: Shadowbringers Spoilers, because they are 3 dumbass warriors of light
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-01-26 18:30:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 10,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21378625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smollander/pseuds/smollander
Summary: Three Warriors of Light, three siblings, one braincell. A series of little scenes and scenarios scattered across all of FFXIV, but probably mostly in Shadowbringers, because why not.
Relationships: G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light
Series: Hearts Like Ours [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1541194
Comments: 3
Kudos: 31





	1. to the pit with him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who doesn't like a story these days of hanging out with younger G'raha. Especially when your WoLs and him are probably all close to the same age and doubtfully taken that seriously (yet) by most people.

_Mor Dhona_   
_Years Ago_

The quarter moon provided great cover but horrid navigation in its weak light. That didn't hinder Avali in the slightest, her Keeper eyes providing better night vision than either of her siblings could dream of. Where they had both shuffled their feet to avoid tripping, she simply skipped along. 

Naturally, this made her the best choice to go rouse the fourth conspirator for this escapade.

"Psst, G'raha," she hissed, poking her head inside the archon's tent. A snore answered her from somewhere beneath a blanket pulled high enough only the tips of his ears showed. 

"G'raha wake up." A little louder this time. He rolled over in response; at first she hoped to rise from his cot. But no. 

Finally, she ducked inside, tiptoeing over to his cot to speak directly into his ear. "_ Wake up, G'raha Tia. _" An interrupted snore escaped as his head jerked upwards from his pillow.

Mis-matched eyes were wide in surprise _ and _a vain attempt to see in the dark. "Avali?" he said, and hastily she put a finger to his lips to emphasize the need for discretion. 

"What're you doing?" he whispered.

"Put on some pants and you'll find out," she joked, snickering as he got out of bed red-faced and curious. "We need to hurry, the others are waiting at the dig site."

* * *

Not long after, G’raha shuffled after her under the cover of night, hand clasped in hers so he wouldn’t trip. That was the reason he told himself anyway. If she thought otherwise she didn’t say, just picked him a safe, quiet trail through the darkness. His ears picked up the whispers once they neared the dig site. 

“It’s good to see you awake, G’raha Tia,” Aidan whispered, “We could use another hand with this.” He grinned, rolling his shoulders to relieve some of the strain temporarily. Honoura, the eldest of the three, simply nodded her head in greeting. Like her brother, her hands were full.

“‘Tis good to be awake if only to see what you three are up to.” G’raha joked, tail curling curiously as he squinted in the dark. There was a loud snore that suddenly emanated from a very long, covered bundle the two Hawkes had hoisted between them.

“About that…” Honoura said, softly.

“Give us a hand gettin’ him down the stairs, would ya?”

‘Him’ as it turned out, was Nero tol Scaeva, who they’d somehow managed to drag out of his cot and onto a wooden plank wrapped up in his blanket. The second most open secret at NOAH’s campsite was him and Honoura’s antagonistic relationship; something Nero glibly called a bad first impression and she looked ready to spit in his coffee any time he said that. Naturally, Nero felt only encouraged to recount the story again. Perhaps he was conducting research as to how deeply he could make an Eorzean scowl. Or in this case, three of them; G’raha had caught Aidan glaring at the back of the taller man’s head more than once.

Clearly, for all they refused to speak _to_ Nero, they spoke plenty _of_ him elsewhere. 

“For such a bloody beanpole he’s **heavy**.” Aidan commented, looking over his shoulder as he lightly, carefully, walked backwards down the stairs. He’d stolen Nero’s sunglasses out of the man’s tent when they had stolen the man. They slid off his nose but rested perfectly on his head. 

“He’d never have floated in the lake.” Honoura huffed, readjusting her grip to ease the strain on her fingers, shoulder to shoulder with G’raha as they ferried Nero down to the bottom of the pit,”Not unless we tied him to a boat.”

“Nonsense. He’d have floated like a rock.” All four of them snickered at that, and then hastily shushed one another when Nero stirred and rolled over. 

The scaffolding proved sturdier than it looked, but the deeper they stepped the darker it got. So while he grasped one corner of the plank, Avali held onto the other and directed him. It was slow work, occasionally halted when one of them kicked a tool or the wood creaked in case Nero woke up. One step cracked ominously under G’raha’s foot, prompting several nervous stares and a weak “we should tell Cid about that” for reassurance. 

Roughly three quarters of a bell, the quartet gingerly set their cargo down in his new quarters. Stars were fading, the sky lightening from its dark sapphire hue. Their delicate work accomplished, all four stretched tired muscles and tiptoed back up the scaffolding, to their tents back to cold cots and blankets.

* * *

Slowly, the rest of the expedition rose to life; faces got washed, morning fires stoked for meals. Tools and gear checked to see if they needed repair. Chocoboes received their morning feeding, some trilling impatiently. Outside a trio of tents, Rammbroes and Cid sat at their own fire. A freshly brewed pot of coffee sat between them, steam curling up from the spout, while breakfast slowly cooked in a large cast iron pan. 

“Surprisingly quiet this morning,” commented Cid, squinting at notes and calculations from the day before in the hope they still made sense. Seated across a cheery morning campfire, Rammbroes chuckled in agreement. “That’s because our young miscreants went _ back _to bed instead of waking up.”

“Did they now?” Cid took a sip of coffee, ears open.

“I heard them shuffling through the dark, giggling. They sounded very pleased with themselves.” The old roegadyn cleaned his glasses against his shirt, setting them back on his face,”I vote to let them sleep, they can brew a second pot for themselves for once.”

“Ha, I can’t argue with that idea, three of them eat any meal like it’s their last.” Both men tucked in to breakfast before a loud, angry shout caught the attention of the entire camp.  
  
Cid paused mid-forkful of breakfast,”Was that Nero?” 

Rammbroes looked doubtful, then stood up,”I’ll check his tent.”

He needn’t have bothered; a series of thundering, angry stomps of feet on wood provided an answer. Nero stormed up from the dig site, barefoot and in his smallclothes. Only his smallclothes. For Cid it was a chance too good to pass up.

“Forget a few things before setting out this morning, Nero?” 

“Shut it, Garlond,” he snapped, disappearing into his tent,”Where are they?!” 

“They, Nero?”

“Those little bastards.” A brief silence. “And my sunglasses.”

“Where they’ve been all night, I expect.” Cid went back to his breakfast unphased. Rammbroes attempted to do the same but failed to contain a damning smile. One he quickly tried to quell when Nero stepped back out, clothed.

“Not all night they haven’t. When I get my hands-”

“Nero.”

_“What?"_

“Isn’t it a bit beneath a man of your standing to be upstaged by children?”

“Don’t start with me today, Garlond,” Nero spat, and both the other men laughed uproariously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An AU of 3 RP characters who are siblings... into a verse where they're both Warriors of Light and still siblings. Honoura and Aidan are mine; Avali is avalises. I don't know how to describe this as anything other than a grilled cheese verse; it's indulgent junk food at its finest. Because let's be honest, being the WoL is hard, but having at least one other person makes it a bit more bearable.


	2. wine drunk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From waaaay back in 2.x and all that mess with Leviathan.

It was Y'shtola who first stumbled upon them; sounds of snoring catching in her sharp hearing. Limsa Lominsa never met a cause to celebrate it didn't pursue with gusto. Leviathan's defeat by an adopted hometown hero meant breaking out the good ale and pricier Wineport vintages.

Several rounds of challengers for drinking games later, and they all had poured into their seats for the ferry ride to the city proper. Aidan and Avali had started singing slurred duets, each remembering only bits and pieces of a song before they belted out the bridge. Honoura started nodding off on her feet before they trudged to the lift ride up to the inn. 

After that they'd disappeared; neither Thancred nor herself could puzzle where they'd gotten to. _ How do you lose three drunk children, when two of them were singing? _

The answer lay on the bed in one of the inn rooms made up for them. Namely, all three of them piled onto one. 

Aidan lay sprawled diagonally across the mattress on his back. He hadn't gotten more than a shoe off. Y'shtola noted he was also the source of the snoring. Honoura came next, tucked in between the two. One arm was flopped on top of Aidan's chest, the other lost somewhere under her sister's head as Avali used it as a pillow. A fair deal, since Honoura was using Aidan's arm as a pillow. The Maelstrom jacket coat she'd been gifted by some former comrade had been unbuttoned, but otherwise she was still fully kitted out. They all were, minus the weapons piled on the table. 

Avali, having the least bedspace, had curled up tight, all but shoved up against her elder sister, the tip of her tail dangling off the side of the bed. 

Leaning against the doorframe, she watched in silent amusement. One ear flicked back towards the hall at the sound of the softest footfalls.

"Found them?" Thancred didn't wait for a reply, peering around the doorway. That more than answered his question.

"Let's give them a hand," Y'shtola tiptoed in to snuff the lanterns and crack open a window to let in the cool nightly sea breeze. With deft precision, Thancred tugged their shoes and gloves off -- the ones he could anyway, and set them on the table.

Once finished and shutting it with the softest click behind them, the two Scions exchanged a knowing look and bid each other good night. Save some pressing emergency, both knew there'd be no early start to the trip back to Mor Dhona tomorrow.


	3. wax

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set early in Heavensward -- Aidan learns that sometimes it's best not to think with your stomach.

The odd lack of crunch should have been his first clue something was amiss with the apple. Maybe the odd texture, but Aidan had been hungry enough he hadn’t cared to question just _ why _someone left a bowl overladen with fruit sitting out. In a parlor, no less. Or was it a foyer. Fortemps Manor had both (along with a library, a study, several bedrooms all very large), and he still couldn’t remember which word for which room he’d never set foot in before. 

Everything was too much here; too many spaces, too many _ things _, too many people. He felt rather certain his family’s entire cottage could have fit in his bedroom, or most of it. As for food, he never saw that much in his own kitchen growing up. So when there was a bowl let alone just out in the open, he wondered: was it for the staff? for snacks? 

By the second chew he had learned quickly. One, nobility did not keep random foodstuffs out in a parlor. Or a foyer. Or anywhere but the kitchen. Even Ishgardian ones. Two, this wasn’t fruit, it was _ wax fruit _. For the sake of telling guests ‘why yes, we do have real food here, because we make use of the fake stuff for decoration’.

Three, he needed somewhere to hide the evidence he had just tried to eat it. He quickly cased the rest of the parlor, frantically looking for anything. He knew he was the equivalent of a gutter rat, he didn’t need evidence of it laying around in the open.

The staff clearing the fireplace of its ashes was dreadfully confused to find a solidified puddle of wax mixed with soot in the hearth two suns later. They gossiped about it for the next three after. Aidan himself forgot about it within a sennight until, sometime after arriving back from Doma, a fruit basket arrived with part of the Ishgardian contingent in Ala Mhigo with a note in a familiar script. 

It simply read: _ I promise they taste better than the one you discarded, once. _


	4. snow

They tiptoed down the hall towards the exit through the kitchens, boots held in their hands. Once they were clear of the polished hardwood floor they slipped them on, filched some food from the larder, and went outside to a world with a barely lit sky. The air was  **bracing** ; their breath froze into miniature clouds immediately. Honoura felt jolted into wide awake, roses blooming in her cheeks. Her brother shivered and shoved his gloved hands under his armpits. Cloud cover blotted out all the stars. The only time they could guess was ‘early’. 

The fresh snowfall overnight had a thin, hard shell to it from ambient moisture in the air. Delicate to pressure, even a soft footfall could break it. So far only guards on their specified routes had bespoiled any of it. Otherwise, the snowbanks sparkled, pristine and aglow in lamplight. Aidan broke into the powder first, scooping up a handful to reshape into artillery. Honoura did the same, both of them crafting their own pile of snowballs to use later against one another. Occasionally, they paused to stuff their mouths with snow, giggling.

A half bell after dawn, the quiet of the Last Vigil shattered right when most of the residents had barely tucked into breakfast. None of Edmont’s neighbors appreciated them having a snowball fight. They appreciated it even less when their own children joined in, coats hastily tossed over nightclothes and feet shoved into boots with servants pleading on their parents’ behalf they come back inside. 

The social credit of pelting a Warrior of Light in the face outweighed  _ any  _ argument. The younger students of the Scholasticate buzzed about making snow angels with adventurers, real ones who’d slain a dragon. Details came between sneezes or sniffles. Meanwhile, lords and ladies dared to do little more than give the Hawkes bracing smiles or send a curt note to their benefactor about decorum.

* * *

Brave souls saved their comments at a high house for a public forum. Namely, a ball.

“I hear de Borel played a clever trick on you, Lord de Fortemps,”quipped Lady Desrosiers, one of the lower noble houses, “He returns from Eorzea with talk of these fierce warriors. He neglected to mention they were mere children. Have you thought to hire a nanny?” 

Edmont hmmed thoughtfully, tapping his thumb against the head of his cane,“I take it their morning antics are not to your approval, madame?” By now, the events were weekly. Sometimes started by the children first.

“According to the gossip after holy services, the Fury gave you uncouth urchins from that cursed forest to aid the country,” Jacqueline Desrosiers a smile behind an elegant paper fan with dozens of painted roses on it, gold leaf accenting the tips of the thorns. 

“Is that right?”

“They fervently disapprove of them being foreign-born. All this talk of not needing a handout when we’ve stood alone for so long.” Her hair fluttered as she suddenly fanned herself furiously,”Never you mind making them your wards serves as citizenship. I daresay your son has caused you quite the scandal.”

“I imagine the neighbors will be thrilled. They intend to head to the Western Highlands tomorrow,” he replied wryly, a smile twitching at his lip, “Your nephew has quite the throwing arm by the way, Lady Desrosiers.”

“Does he now? Disappointing he should fail to mention that to  _ me  _ in these escapades.”

“How old is he now, Jacqueline?” he asked, watching dancers float across the floor to an airy waltz.

“Thirteen too soon, milord,” she said. There was a twinge of grief to it, “Childhood nears its end.”

“I see,” Edmont said, which was all one could. House Desrosiers, like any old family, kept a large garden of a certain kind. One filled with stones, names, and dates. “Mayhap they will host a game before they leave.”

“They should. Mayhap they will recover some pride from my nephew.”

* * *

"I think I've got snow in my ear," Aidan shook his head with dog-like vigor, temporarily ducked behind a hedge next to his sister. She was making snowballs as quick as she could. Haurchefant's father had suggested a last bout with the children before they left for Falcon's Nest. Neither was certainly in any rush to journey to colder, more dangerous climates.

"I told you Alcide was aiming for you," Honoura chided, as snowballs sailed over their barricade to land with soft thumps.

"Alphinaud betrayed us." 

"Course he did, you're the losing side."  
  
"What do you mean, _I'm the losing side?_" asked Aidan, and at that moment Honoura pulled at his shirt collar and shoved a handful of unpacked snow down it. A litany of swears echo of swears echoed off the stone homes around them, so loud it put the game at a standstill. Aidan pulled and tugged off layers, cursing the cold and his own family. The snow had already melted, meaning everything he wore from the waist up was wet. Shirtless and panting, he glared at his sister. Who was still seated, looking decidedly nonplussed.

"That's what I meant," Honoura said, rising to her feet,"I win."

They were both gone by mid-day. The Scholasticate learned two very important lessons from their students over the next two sennights. One was you could not peel paint off walls with curse words. The second was until the novelty of the phrase wore off, children would look for any reason to say a swear. Disciplining them was futile.

Aidan got his revenge on Alcide Desrosiers much later, by way of dumping a bucket of snow over the boy's head. 


	5. fishing

The initial tug as the securely fastened chains grew taut knocked them both off their feet. Above them, endless blue sky stretched out. The Sea of Clouds was aptly named, and the crystal island a ship. And also, bait.

“So explain this to me again. Like I’m seven.”   
  
“ _ I just told you _ -”

“Aye you did, but please.” Aidan repeated, and even threw in a feigned expression of optimism. For his sister’s sake. But he wanted to make a point nonetheless; it was the principle of the thing. The principle of being a baby brother.

“Cid’s going to drag this along and hope Bismarck sees it. Hopefully it’ll be enticed to approach to eat it. We’ll be atop so we can reach the primal,” Honoura repeated, tiredly, the type of exhaustion when a sibling has gotten on your last nerve,”It’s… fishing.” 

Her face crumpled. The little voice that still served the Maelstrom corrected it to  _ whaling _ , which had the delightful effect of further souring her expression.

“So all that genius. And his idea is we go fishing.” Scrambling to his feet, Aidan leaned down to offer his sister a hand up.

“Correct.”

“Well.” He snorted,”Fingers fucking crossed he doesn’t swallow his bait whole." 

From somewhere behind them, whalesong drifted through the air. A white shape in the distance porpoised along the horizon.

“This was a really stupid idea.”

“Yes, well, who’s flying the airship and who’s standing on the rock right now?”

"Point made, sister, point made."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's be honest the WoL could have bitten the dust right there because of a Moby Dick style incident.


	6. we need an adult

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aidan and Lyse try to give each other a pep talk and jinx themselves by saying "Yeah, we got this."

His stomach churned with every pitch and roll of the ocean just outside the hull. Aidan took a breath and realized that was an awful idea; he leaned over the bucket again. Above, Carvallain and the rest of his crew could be heard carousing. The contents of his stomach weren’t the only things sloshing tonight. His unfortunately keen nose smelled alcohol. Would that this were a hangover rather than seasickness. Why’d he have to volunteer to sail to Hingashi? Gods, never again.

He was neck-deep in nausea when a hand rubbed his back, gently. “How’s your stomach?” Lyse asked. Between her and the twins, she’d drawn the proverbial short straw on who got the lucky privilege of checking in on him. 

He groaned miserably in response. She grimaced, and quietly thanked Rhalgr his reply hadn’t been to throw up. “Hey! You didn’t throw up that time! That’s good news!” 

“Yeah, s’great,”he raised his head enough so he could at least look at something more pleasant,”How long did they say it’d take to get there again?” 

“A couple of moons, I’m afraid.”  
  
“Kill me Lyse.”

“What, and go home to your sisters to deliver **that** news?”  
  
“Terrible accident, I died at sea,” he said, scooting away from the bin to lay down flat on the floor. Dark eyes fixed themselves on a knot of wood in the ceiling. Confident he wasn’t going to be sick anymore, Lyse scooted to sit beside him. The pirates above had started a rousing attempt at singing “Whiskey Me Boys.” They were almost in tune. It was almost, _ almost _ soothing.

“Have you never been to sea before?” she asked, curious.

“Never anything rougher than a ferry ride.” And those were typically, blessedly short, “Only one sailor in the family, and she did not come.”

“Really? But I thought your mother hailed from Limsa--”

“Be nice if sea legs ran in the family that way. When Hon moved there I stayed in the Shroud.” Aidan closed his eyes and draped one arm over his face, “Oi, tell me something. Honest answer?” 

“What?”

“We can pull this off right?”

Lyse took advantage of his blindness to smile to herself. One of those smiles a person tries to form when everything around them has escalated from ‘minor calamity’ to ‘unforeseen, catastrophic fiasco’. The same kind of smile a mother wears when she’s trying to cope with her children being voidsent in Spoken form. 

“Of course we can! Rhalgr’s Reach was...bad.” The smile morphed into more of a grimace, but the tone of voice remained bright,“But we’ve got you here, and your sisters will be sure to help shore up the Resistance. It's not what we pictured but...”

“It's what we have?” he suggested.  
  
“Rough way to put it.”

“...Yeah” Aidan licked his lips, tasted bile, and regretted it, “You really think we can pull this off?” 

“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself. Things’ll work out, I’m sure of it.”

* * *

  
_ A Few Weeks Later _

**“Who? Who hath made us whole?”**

The great voice boomed out against the rocks, shaking the ground beneath their feet. Aidan bit back the awful urge to laugh, because _ of course. _ ** _Of course._ **

“I did it! Sort of,” he shouted, sheepishly,“I was just sort of carrying it and this… happened.”

**“Thou didst freely deliver our jewel unto thine enemy’s own treasure vault?”**

_ Something like that, _he thought, biting his tongue to keep it simply a thought as the entity that was definitely, absolutely a primal laughed in delight. 

**“Hahaha! How auspicious! We do commend thee!”**

Aidan looked over his shoulder at Lyse, “Things’ll work out, huh?”

“Well, sorry! I didn’t know!”

**“Such audacity is deserving of celebration, exultation -- a contest of wills to mark the occasion!”**

_ Oh no, _ he thought, _ Oh, oh no. _

**“Let sides be chosen! And for their loyalty, we shall stand with the caretakers of our greater part.”**

“Oh, perfect. A contest of wills. Just what we need,” Alisaie muttered, raising a hand to her temple.

**“Curse neither your fate nor its executor, children of man, for we are of the divine -- of both heaven and earth. The ringing silence. The raging calm. All riseth and falleth at the whim of capricious fortune. Assume your marks upon the stage, and embrace the coming chaos!” **

The air hummed and crackled with lightning-aspect aether, and the waters churned. Storm clouds gathered, and with a resounding crack of thunder, the booming voice had an equally booming form.

**“We are Susano, and in revelry do we rejoice!”**

“That… that’s a primal standing in front of us, right?” asked Lyse.

“And a horde of angry Kojin at our backs,” Alisaie dryly commented, with a lilt to her voice.

“We don’t tell my sister about this,” Aidan said,“Either of them. I’ll never hear the end of it.” He took a deep breath, rolled his shoulders, “You two should get clear of here.”

“Lyse, help me clear a path?” Alisaie withdrew her rapier, counting off targets,“We’ll handle the Kojin. You handle...that.” She looked over her shoulder and decided yes, this was absolutely his problem. 

“Make way! Make way!” The highlander was off and running to barrel through a line of Kojin before Aidan could speak. Not that Alisaie was _ wrong _, but…

He turned around and craned his neck to look up, up, up. Terrific. Just, _terrific._

**“Let the revel… begin!”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When we were looking back at Stormblood, Ava and I kinda agreed that it was easier to get through if the two revolutions were handled by different people. Aidan got picked to go to Doma because:
> 
> a) Avali's father is from Gyr Abania  
b) Hon's the first one to get her ass kicked by Zenos  
c) if any of the three of them was going to be dumb enough to summon a primal like Susano, it'd be him
> 
> Part of this started as a prompt from FFXIV Write this year, but I'd remembered liking the concept so I just expanded it. I'm probably going to do that more than once, I won't lie.


	7. younger sibling complex

_The Azim Steppe_

Did the stars shine brighter here, or did the Steppe just feel that much closer to the sky? Aidan judged he could see a good half malm, maybe a bit further after dark. He lay sprawled out on the hillside with his hands resting on his chest, walking distance from Mol Iloh but just out of earshot of camp activities. Above him, the sky winked and flickered, a thousand thousand tiny lights in a sea of blue black. A shimmering ocean in the sky. 

“There you are!” he raised his head up in time to see Lyse trudging over, laying it back down once she plopped down in the grass next to him, “I knew you’d gotten somewhere when camp was so quiet. What’re you doing out here?”

“Eh, wanted some space,” Aidan shrugged, “Wanted some time to think, I guess.” He suddenly felt a gloved hand pressed to his forehead for a moment or two, before Lyse withdrew it and scrutinized him with her bright sky-blue eyes.  
  
“And what was _ that _ for?” he asked, a touch of his sister’s dry acerbic tone to the question.

“Checking for a fever, I could have sworn you said you were out here _ thinking _,” she quipped, dodging a lazy swat of a hand in response.

“You’re one to talk, Miss ‘I lead with my fist’.” There was a quirk of an eyebrow in her direction. 

“Says the man who picks a fight with Zenos and his first words to explain himself are ‘whoops’.”

Aidan bit on his lower lip at that, because it’d gone from idle teasing to something true. It’d been stupid. It’d been really stupid, honestly. How had Yugiri managed to talk him into it. He could hear his sister, either one, ask that. They’d have slapped him for his rashness and hugged him in relief. And the truth was messy; one part was he itched for payback, truthfully. 

He’d seen what Zenos did to the Reach, the Resistance, the Scions, his family. The other part was… well. For once he’d have done something really miraculous, wouldn’t he? Aidan’s Echo had always been a bit less impressive. Flashbacks rarely knocked him off his feet. More attuned to danger, to knowing when to duck or parry. Maybe, maybe for once…

Lyse studied the look on his face. Seeing him look so serious was uncommon -- more often it’d be Honoura. Sometimes Avali, if the topic strayed too close to sore spots. On him it seemed lost. She preferred him laughing, or when he smiled. He’d done that less and less lately.

“Okay, that was a bad joke. Forgive me?” she asked, and he shook his head. 

“Nah, ‘s not that.” He glanced up to her, hair framed with starlight, “Hey, Lyse?”

“What is it?”

“We’re taking the right steps, right?” Aidan pushed himself to sit upright, rubbing the back of his head, “Just. I dunno. I feel like I just keep being pulled along by everything. I keep wondering if I’m s’posed to do it better, do something more, do-”  
  
“What your sister would do,” she finished for him,“Is this what she would do if she was in your shoes here.” They each gave the other a weak half-smile in acknowledgement. 

“Hard, huh? Especially when you love them.”

“I think that makes it harder. You just think about how strong they are, what they accomplished-”  
  
“And how can _ you _ measure up-”  
  
“And what if you don’t at all.” They’d have laughed at finishing their own thoughts, if it’d been at all funny. For a while they just stargazed, in comfortable silence save for the occasional ringing of steel from back closer to the Xaela camp. 

“Aidan?” 

“Hm.” 

“We made it this far without your sister, you know,” Lyse said, nudging him with her elbow,“Even if you made mistakes… you righted them after. Maybe you’re right, maybe this isn’t what Honoura would do. Or what Avali would do. But it’s what you’re doing, and it’s gotten us here. We’re going to fight for an army to help liberate Doma. And you’re the one who got us there.” She put a hand on his shoulder, and when he said nothing shook it.

“Right?” she said.

“I… suppose,” he answered, and she shook him again. 

“Oh, he _ supposes _ , he’s only a Warrior of Light but he _ supposes _he managed to work miracles with his own hands.” A smile crept up his face and broke into a grin. 

“All right, all right, message received, you can lay off the flattery now. Won’t get you anything, anyway, I’ve naught to give,” he stated, shrugging,“Save one thing.”

“And what’s that?” she asked.

“If I’m not to be my sister you shouldn’t either. I was never friends with Yda,” he stated, and looked at her softly, “I was friends with you. It’s you who I went to Gyr Abania with. And I’ll go back.”

Lyse looked surprised for all of an instant, and laughed,”Now there’s a promise worthy of the title Warrior of Light.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A friend suggested Aidan/Lyse and then it rotted my brain.


	8. sibling avoidance tactics

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've never had a sibling, I can promise that sometimes you will do something really absurd to avoid them. Even if you love them. Alisaie might be the jock twin now, but I feel like that started entirely because Alphinaud was an insufferable older brother who thought five minutes was good as five years maturity on her.

_ The Ruby Sea, post-Liberation of Doma _

It was a spectacular example of a belly flop. Honoura rated as one of the better ones she'd seen. That Alphinaud screamed as he launched himself was a bonus. It did raise a couple of questions, however.

“Alisaie?” A glance to the other elezen twin, standing to her left, also observing her drip of a brother.

“Yes?”  
  
“Question for you.”

“What’s that?” They both were idly watching the more scholarly twin do what could best be described as a three-legged dog paddle. But maybe that failed to give enough credit to actual three-legged dogs.

“How is it he swims so… and you know how to at all?”  
  
“Oh,” Alisaie pursed her lips for a moment, but didn’t hesitate long to do as any younger sibling was wont to their elders. “From about the time we were six Alphinaud _**lived**_ to boss me around. I used to skip afternoon lessons sometimes; he took it upon himself to find me and nag until I showed up, even if it meant we’d both be tardy.”  
  
“Uh huh,” Honoura saw Alphinaud’s head dip under for a moment -- the channel depth had dropped a bit more. Or maybe something brushed by his ankle. “Go on.”

“He found me near a particularly wide stream we both knew. It was deep and wide enough to have a weak current and this little islet in the middle,” she shrugged, impervious to shame, “So I jumped in and swam over to get away from him. He couldn’t do more than stand on the other bank and pout at me. I pretended to go to sleep. He gave up after half a bell, then I really fell asleep.”

“Huh.” The midlander tilted her head, watched as Alphinaud staggered onto the opposite shore, waterlogged. He hadn’t even thought to take off his shoes. Maybe next time she'd just pull him behind her.

“What’d you ever do to get Aidan to leave you alone?”

“Made a bet with him I’d eat a bug if he did.”  
  
Both of Alisaie’s eyebrows rose at that statement. “ _ And _?” she asked.

Honoura gave a little shrug, “Tasted dreadful.”

“Worth it?”  
  
“Absolutely.”


	9. a bad call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you summon a Warrior of Light, but it's not the /specific/ one you wanted, so you try again and whoops now you have two Warriors of Light who aren't the one you specifically wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Shadowbringers one! Also, one I realize is less silly than the ones before it. Whoops! I fucked up!

There were stars. Countless scores of them. When had it gotten so late at night? Had he fallen asleep? Aidan stared with an unfocused gaze, trying to think. **Gods** , it _ hurt _ to think — his head pounded, like he’d just taken a blow from a cudgel. Maybe he had? What had he been doing, why was the floor so cold--

It hit him then that none of those questions were so important as the one that immediately popped up. Why, exactly why, was he feeling the floor with so much bare skin? Sitting up the quickest he ever had in his life, Aidan looked around and found nothing but more questions.

Crystalline and gold walls. Half crystalline… man? He wasn’t sure — Aidan had seen plenty of creatures passing themselves off as people. Himself, naked. His sister Avali, also here. Also naked. This was awkward. And alarming. 

“Nice of you to wake up, finally,” she said, having artfully covered herself by way of her hair and seated position. Aidan opted to be as open as possible. It wasn’t his fault he was here without a stitch; let them be uncomfortable.

The cold, ocean-blue polished stone floor inlaid with gold hummed with so much aether. The whole place did. There were a lot of questions to ask, but the first one that tumbled out of his mouth set the tone for the conversation.

“Who the ** _fuck _ **are you, mate?”

“_ Aidan- _” 

“Ah. I see your guess was correct, Avali. Your brother immediately cut to the chase,” said the third party. He was on the short side -- Aidan figured he had maybe an ilm or two. Judging by the staff and the robes, either the figure was the cause of Aidan’s current predicament, or he knew who was. Those ilms could prove to be very important, very quickly. “First, I _ do _apologize for this. It was a bit of a mistake on my part-”

“What am I doing here on your floor with no _ pants, mate, _” Aidan glared into the recesses of that cowl. His memory was coming back in bits and pieces; he remembered where he’d been now. 

He had been inside the Rising Stones, speaking with… someone. Maybe Krile. Or F’lhaminn. Whichever. His head felt like it had crashed into a wall. A voice, commanding him to come. The sensation of being uprooted, pulled, yanking a weed out of the ground. Painfully visceral across every nerve in his body. He’d sank to his knees before losing consciousness entirely. The last thing he thought he heard was a cry of “Not again!”

* * *

“First, allow me to introduce myself properly. I am the Crystal Exarch. We are currently within my quarters in the Crystal Tower, a structure that exists on _ your world _ , though at a different point in its _ time. _As I said, I do apologize to you both for this,” the hooded man bowed slightly to them both,”I expect you both know of a strange affliction befalling several members of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, yes?” Aidan and Avali both exchanged a look; a couple of quirked eyebrows and some silent agreement to listen. For now at least.

“... Very well. Mayhap an explanation of what had been my intent would be best,” there was a dip of his head, and the Exarch began the arduous process of explaining himself to the two siblings he _ hadn’t _ intended to summon.

“I am afraid this was my doing. A mistake on my part. T’was my intention to summon your sister, solely. But I have been struggling to attain mastery of this particular type of magic so I--”

So _ that _ had been the cause of all the headaches she had, the ones that kept taking Scions and leaving Honoura pale-faced and shaking. “What about our sister?” Avali asked, pointedly, ears pinned back. Aidan leaned forward to listen _ very intently _on what was said,”And why her by herself?”

“Well, she is the one typically referred to as the Warrior of Light, yes?”

The two nude siblings glanced at each other, shrugged, with Aidan giving a,”Well…”

“Technically…” Avali continued, and between the two there was a garbled explanation of how three siblings had claim to one title. Three sharing the Echo, three with the Blessing, but all having a firm hand in shaping current history more or less. Even during their own time they noticed certain accomplishments attributed to one of them that were someone else’s.

“I think I _ might _grasp why I errored,” the Exarch quipped.

“More important,” Aidan replied,”What’d you want with Honoura so badly you summoned over half dozen others first by mistake?” He counted the numbers again in his head to be certain. Thancred. Y’shtola. Urianger. The twins. Now them. Seven total. 

“I need her help. The First needs her help.”  
  
“A lot of people say they need her.”

“It’s to avert a Calamity.”

“_ Everyone _says they need her to avert another Calamity, mate.” Aidan had endured enough sitting at this point. He stood up, rolling one shoulder then the other, and curled one hand into a fist. A warmup. “So I’d ask you be more specific.” 

Whether or not he took Aidan seriously, the Exarch did take a moment for the words to settle,”Very well. When your compatriot Urianger crossed over from the Source, he had a vision of the future. Of the 8th Umbral Calamity.” The words were enough to halt the midlander man in the midst of giving his miqo’te sibling a hand up. The intimidation melted out of his posture.

“What do you mean?”

* * *

The robe hid his body well enough, but he still felt naked. No, not that exactly. _ Exposed. _ Had he been here a few minutes, a bell? More? There was nowhere to hide in this Crystarium; everything was strange yet not strange. Pieces were familiar but names were different. There had been one or two people who looked _ achingly _ familiar from home, to the point he almost addressed them by names that weren’t theirs. 

At some point -- amidst the talk of a Calamity to be, how it’d come about, who’d die (all of them), some half-cocked idea about saving a Shard to avert all that, he’d lost his temper. The words ran together, but Aidan did know a few things for certain: it had been very expletive laden. It had involved a couple of threats that it _ really would _ be in the Exarch’s best interests he fix this. At some point clothes were brought in; that felt like a good time to put on some pants and get some air. There had been no thought about what to do other than _ get out _. See for himself.

Maybe it was a trick. An elaborate lie -- it wasn’t impossible. Aidan had seen the impossible. Done the impossible, too. More than once at this point. He felt he possessed a good measure of the definition of it. Now here he was, sitting outside on the steps leading into the _ fucking Crystal Tower _ of all places, staring at a too bright sky. Aidan ran his hands down his face and muttered a couple of curses. _ Well, _ ** _fuck_ ** _ . _There went his definition of impossible. Honoura would be-

Alone.

She would be alone. Not solitary alone, sure. Krile would be there. Tataru, Hoary Boulder, Coultenet, the sisters, Riol. But no family. Even he had family here. Aidan gnawed on the inside of his cheek -- gods, even if he succeeded in drawing her here, the question of _ when _ was a whole other concern. Thancred had lain in the Rising Stones like a living corpse for a few sennights. Apparently here that translated to years. _ Years. _Did it work the other way? What if a month passed before she arrived and she was older? Years older? The train of thought overtook his attention enough he startled when a small hand gripped his shoulder.

“I see you made it far,” Avali said, the words teasing but the tone slight admonishment. He’d thrown a fit, he knew it. She knew it. 

“Sorry,” he patted the space on the step next to him,”It was a lot.” Avali plunked down next to him with a small huff,”Yeah.” 

“He can’t send us back,” Aidan wrung his hands,”And time works different. We’re stuck here and she’s over there until the stars align or the Spinner grants him favor and until then _ she’s alone _ with the Garleans and those Ascian bastards running their empire what’s going to **happen** Avali?” He gestured to the expanse of the courtyard, one they’d never seen before, continuing his rambling,”And what do we do _ here _? Do, do we just live here for now? Forever? Sit and wait because we’re not the person he most wanted?” At that point he put his head between his knees, abruptly lightheaded. 

Avali patted him on the back; there were no good words for any of that. It reminded her of another time with the self-same tower behind them.

Avali had sat on the bridge atop the gates of Mor Dhona, staring at the crystalline blue spire a scant few malms away. She had sat there every night, ever since the golden doors of the Crystal Tower had closed with a resounding, resolute thud. The last thing she’d seen had been red eyes, smiling with a hint of sadness hidden in the sanguine depths. He was there, he was **right** there in the Crystal Tower. But he was also out of reach. Probably forever. There had been no changing G’raha’s mind. A heavy weight had fallen onto her shoulders; she flinched, and looked back over her shoulder.

Back then, Aidan had been the one giving comfort, draping a blanket over her shoulders. ”Thought you might get cold,”he said then. He left after that, leaving her to her vigil. There wasn’t anything he could have said to dissuade her anyway. She could at least be warm.

Pulling him into a one-armed side hug, Avali didn’t have any words now as he lacked then. The utter certainty of what he’d said -- there was no road _ back _. And while none of them were completely dysfunctional separated, no one had ever willfully barred them from one another. Besides, Aidan had never done well with being told what he was forbidden from doing.

“Thank you.”

“Mhm.”

“I’m not sure what to do.”

“Me neither.”

* * *

_ Three Moons Later _

There was always something that needed doing at the Crystarium. Aidan was glad for it; he was neither scholar nor strategist. This left him completely useless in the realm of any long term planning. Luckily, there was more than plenty manual labor to be done around Lakeland every day. Supply runs, fending off sin eaters -- once he’d shown interest, Lyna and the rest of the Guard outfitted him with everything he needed. 

This included a schedule. A time to wake up, a patrol route, duties to attend. It helped him feel less hopeless. If he was stuck, fine. At least he wouldn’t be bored. A tad unhappy still. But it beat going stir crazy. Being a soldier was simple. Especially here, where the enemy was a fate worse than death. 

Avali had also found things to fill up her time. A great deal of it he’d noticed involved spending a lot of time at the Crystal Tower she had watched for so long. They both had a clear view of it under a couple of trees nearish the amaro launch, eating lunch.

“Any word of her?” he asked, typically his first question of any conversation now. 

The miqo’te woman shook her head, ribbons in her hair framing her face once they settled. "No, something about the difficulties of piercing 'the veil between worlds and the annals of time’. I guess right now’s a bad time," She took another bite of a Laxan apple (not quite a faerie apple but it’d do), chewing thoughtfully.

"How long he thinks it's been there if he knows?"

"Couple of suns maybe?"

"Really? Hardest working two days of _ my life _then," he joked dryly,"Reminds me of those faery stories. Some poor sap walks into the wrong part of the Shroud and you don't see them again for an Age." The joke fell flat as soon as he spoke it; Avali’s tail lashed twice, her ears flicking back. Right, too soon to be funny. He decided to try something else.

"So he admitted he's G'raha yet?" he asked, and then had to duck to dodge an apple core.

"No!" Avali rolled her big blue eyes, tail lashing furiously behind her,"As if **I ** can't tell. He keeps playing this game of 'there was no one here by that name when I entered the Tower'. _ Please. _" 

In sibling solidarity, Aidan also rolled his eyes. He hadn't known G'raha as _ intimately _ persay, but he did remember the scholar yanking his chain about aethersand. A rough start. He remembered time at the dig site more warmly. Exploring ruins, aging Cid by about a decade. Aging Nero by two decades, easily. _ What's an adventure without gaining a mystical title and mysterious reputation? _ It had to be him. If it wasn’t, there was too much room for suspicion.

They ate in silence for a while after that, one or the other people watching. Aidan broke it first,”Hey.”

Avali flicked one ear in his direction,”Mm.”

“He’ll come around.”

“Mn.”

“And if he doesn’t I can yank that hood back if you like.”

“Pfffft.” Both ears flicked at that.

“Hoist him by his ankles ‘til he comes clean.”

“You’re _ awful _.”

“And yet, you didn’t say no. You love me regardless.” Her nose wrinkled, but there was a smile to go with it. 


	10. what's your location i just wanna talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tacit admittance and an agreement struck between two people determined to look after the people they care about most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sort of had to admit to myself that while I've thought a lot about Hon and G'raha I really don't write it. Anyway, she's kind of a meanie-mo. One with good intentions, but a meanie-mo.

There were some days when, secretly, the G’raha delighted in watching the trio when they thought no one was looking. He kept it to a minimum, respectful of their privacy. But nostalgia for a younger, simpler time occasionally won out. 

When all four of them wore less weighty titles; the most common term used was likely to be ‘child’ rather than ‘Warrior’ or ‘Exarch’. If he strained his memory, G’raha could almost recall the perfect pitch of Cid’s exasperation as one of them tested his patience. There was a touch of amusement in it, absent in chiding statements Cid uttered at Nero. Maybe because all their fuckery didn’t affect Cid. Nobody rearranged Cid’s toolbox after all. Or swapped his research materials with blanks with identical binding. Or that time he woke up to his cot relocated at the bottom of a dig pit. G’raha never did figure out which one of them cooked that up.

Then as now, laughter bounced off the Crystal Tower. G’raha sat on the steps, a stack of reports next to him to review. Typically he’d have tended to them indoors. But with the return of night, days began with faint pinks and blues that faded to golden in the afternoon for the first time in a century. The lengthening of blessed shadows had quickly become a time even the elderly ventured out to partake. To sit and gossip, to enjoy a cup of tea, or just soak up less malevolent sunshine.

* * *

If G’raha answered openly, he was less invested in watching the creep of twilight and more observing how brother and sisters taunted, tested, and pushed one another for the third time this sennight.

Against one another, the Hawke siblings played dirtiest. If they saw an opening to trip or use the environment to interrupt, they took it. They stepped on toes, jabbed each other in the ribcage. Once, he caught Honoura headbutting her brother in the nose. The sisters fought more kindly towards one another. It made sense; Gyr Abania was recent for one of them. 

While Aidan sowed dissent in Doma, the two of them slogged their way to Ala Mhigo. _ It has been a year apart for the other, too, _ he remembered, with a twinge of guilt. Even so, he didn’t _ entirely _regret that mistake. G’raha had missed Avali’s joy sorely. She laughed the most sparring with Aidan; any time he was half a second too slow with a blade she jittered away, giggling in syncopation with her steps. Sometimes he got lucky -- a victory he relished by giving his crystal eyed sister a grin and wagging his finger. 

G’raha chuckled quietly at that; the midlander lad his younger self knew possessed a bottomless well of boasts to crow. When he wasn’t stealing food off your plate, anyway. This iteration matched the texts better. Smarter, less of a risk taker, trying to end a fight quickly. _ I suppose everyone has to grow up sometime. _Avali’s combat, for instance, possessed a keener edge; she pressed on feverishly. She portrayed it all as a game but her will felt more relentless than it had before. She’d beat you, and you’d love her for it. And Honoura-

“We should talk, Exarch.”

Was right next to him. His ears had twitched at the approaching footfalls, but he hadn’t thought to turn his hooded gaze to check if it was a guard or not. She’d always been the quietest one -- more than one book emphasized a stoicism G’raha recalled as painful shyness. In their time together with NOAH his ears burned more with exchanged gossip than she heard him say to his face. Not that he minded, he had been… busy. With research. Among other things. Now here she was, sitting down next to him as if on more familiar terms, feigning attention on her siblings.

The look on her face said he _ wished _ they were back on less familiar terms. An expression that seemed harmless a malm away; a calm, thin smile that failed to reach the eyes. He knew it. Prior to the arrival of the warrior trio, Alisaie sported it more than once. First on Alphinaud, then Thancred. She had ruthlessly used it on _ him _, blistering his ears when she arrived on the First. Comparatively, he preferred Alisaie employing it over Honoura. The midlander had more years to refine the practice.

“Or should I call you G’raha?” 

“Only if you’re welcome to disappointment. I’m afraid your family is playing tricks—”  
  
“If you give me that load of rot _again_ I am removing your hood.” She said, soft and low, laced with disapproval, with a quick hike in pitch on the occasional word. “Then I would see for myself, yeah?” It occurred to him Honoura had been the one most annoyed about the aethersand trickery. G’raha also thought that, if he thought Aidan’s antics were a trial, someone else present possessed less patience for them. Sure, she'd participated a time or twelve, too. But she'd also been just as liable to snitch.

“Very well, what would you like to discuss?” he conceded.

“Our working relationship,” she cast a quick glance his way, her hair veiling her expression as much as he hid his own,”What we are both going to do about them and the Scions. I don’t want another apology. I want truth.”  
  
“The hero of the realm asks for truth, then she shall have it.”

* * *

“Why me of the three of us, then.” A loud ‘HA!’ erupted, drawing their attention long enough to witness Aidan lose another match. Honoura elaborated,”From what you said it seems either of them could have killed a Lightwarden. If you’d summoned them on purpose. But you didn’t.”

“I think we both agree your brother would have strongly objected if he’d been my intended choice.” G’raha caught the faintest snort, took it for a good sign, and continued,”Considering his reaction over being an accidental one.”

“And Avali?”

He could either lie or admit enough truth to confirm his identity. Both choices came with risks. If he lied, she might remain suspicious and hostile forever. Plenty of people had lied to all three of them. Hells, he lied when he entered the Tower that last time. If he admitted, by default he admitted to choosing one over another for selfish reasons. Which could very easily _ also _lead to suspicion and hostility, and justifiably so. 

“Well?” she asked, pressing for an answer, tone turning sharp.

“I hurt her more than enough to last my lifetime,” he chose truth, and smiled grimly,”My choice was selfish.”

G’raha worried when she sat in stony silence, sunlight fading and giving way to the cool glow of the Tower. A reminder of what she had taken in to give back. A reminder also, of how much work remained incomplete, and until it was, he lacked the time to right his mistakes.

“So it was just a process of elimination then? The one of the three you wouldn’t fight with or fuck?”

“Not entirely,” he admitted, turning his head to face her for once, properly,”I chose you because… how would you have felt if I **had** taken one of them, body and soul, instead?” 

She parted her bangs with a sweep of her fingers to stare back, searching, scouring for duplicity. 

“If I could undo that mistake, I would. I’m not a mage, Honoura. I just control the Tower. The spell’s a spell. I used what I had as a conduit to power its workings.” Beneath the layers of his robes, his tail twitched in agitation. He disliked the tone of chastisement. He hated the lack of response even more. The quiet dragged on, until the sun winked out for good. Another new day gone.

* * *

At last, she spoke,”I’ll do this. All this. I can’t just leave them here to die.”

“Of course.”  
  
“Might we agree on one thing?” 

“What would that be?”  
  
“That you do not hurt her again.” A vague ultimatum, and one he suspected would be shared later with just one of her family members. “She spent moons sitting around Mor Dhona watching for you, you know.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” she asked, brows furrowed,”Do you really, though?” 

Now it was his turn to sit in quiet, pondering what to say. But it all sounded too much like an apology she said she did not want and moreover, would likely tell him he owed to another. In that span of time, the midlander had evidently heard enough. Rising to her full petite stature, she craned her neck to look down at him. 

“You owe me what I asked for, G’raha. Get them home. And don’t you dare break her heart again.”


	11. lessons to learn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aidan sees another trio in another generation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be funny but I clearly just fucked that up.

The only word about where the Scions would be going next was Rak’Tika, and that came with conditionals. Namely, locating something for Y’shtola first, then heading to the Greatwood.

Even then, not everyone was going. Aidan was staying to guard against Eulmore. A Warrior of Light in any battle was an advantage; it was a strategic split he logically didn’t object to. The smaller the party, the easier it was to slip away unnoticed. Unfortunately, this meant he participated in none of the planning. Free time never failed to make him restless.

Ideally, logically, Aidan knew he should have been spending this time with his sisters. His eldest sister in particular. He disliked staying behind after being yanked ahead to the First and spending so much time in the East prior to then. Having to trust nothing would go wrong. It also bolstered the little voice that said he wasn't a _ necessity _ here. Useful certainly. Liked for sure. But not an asset, merely an accessory.

There was also the fact that both of them had found something, someone? He wasn’t sure. Well. With Avali he knew exactly the someone. He hadn’t _ seen _ anyone with Noura, hanging around, visiting the Pendants. But sometimes he caught a look on her face, distinctly familiar while being wholly alien at the same time. A crush? Her? Maybe? But who? _ When did she make the time _? Even now, sneaking into her room to borrow her Triple Triad deck, he looked for signs of someone else. A piece of clothing, a note, anything. Finding none, he tiptoed out, as befuddled as ever.

He swiped his sister’s deck because his own was shit. It also wasn’t here, but more importantly, it was shit. He took out everything greater than a three-star ranking. Those went back into their dark blue velvety bag, tucked back into the saddlebag. The only purpose those cards served were crushing folks at the tavern for cheap bets. But so far he’d seen no evidence of Triple Triad being that common -- if he wanted to play a round, he’d have to teach the game. Good thing he had the time to do that properly. 

Luck was on his side. He found Minfilia with the twins by chance at the Markets. Remarkably, for once they were being three kids instead of two Scions and an Oracle, ogling at pastries in a case. _ Good. They ought to be _. It reminded Aidan of another time, and another trio, also two girls and a boy. They’d been three perennial fuck ups for years. It’d be a pity if the dynamic didn’t repeat itself now. Maybe he’d be able to give them a head start.

“Is that pixieberry jam in a cheesecake?” Alisaie came just shy of pressing her nose against the glass case, kneeling in front of it for a better look at the desserts on the bottom shelf. Alphinaud was eyeing a variety of tea cookies on the top shelf, thankful he needn’t tiptoe to see them. Minfilia was peering over Alisaie’s shoulder, hands clasped together and waffling on three different choices, “Oh… I can’t decide…”

“Clearly at that point means you buy them all.” The younger trio all jerked their heads around to look at him. He waved, grinning widely. 

“Come to give unsolicited advice, Aidan?” Alphinaud quipped, but shared a look with his sister. They knew it was less advice and more a declaration of action.

“Hells no, what’s the fun in that? I came to eat,” he said, waving at one of the bakers behind the counter to point at a fruit pastry and holding up three fingers. The twins didn’t hesitate, taking the unspoken cue to order their own indulgences. Which left Aidan looking at Minfilia, “And what’re we getting here?” 

Soft blue eyes looked back to the pastry case shyly, quietly debating. Aidan fished his gil pouch out of his pocket and tossed it up and down, idly.

“Sorry! It’s difficult to choose.”

“I think what he means to tell you Minfilia, you can get them all,” Alisaie explained, completely unphased by the show of generosity, “So you’re better off doing that before he pesters you into it. He’s an insufferable enabler.” 

“Says the girl who needed very little coaxing to buy that half ponze of konpeito she ate in Kugane," Aidan quipped, grinning when it won him a giggle from the youngest party member.

“So, what’ll it be miss?” He tilted his head, doglike, and raised both eyebrows.

* * *

“Thank you,” she said, once they were all seated in a semi-private spot away from the din of the marketplace. Something of a pseudo picnic, with treats laid on paper bag blankets to keep them off the dirt. 

_ Remarkably tidy of me these days _ , thought the eldest of the group. It wasn’t all that long ago Avali or Honoura probably could have dared him to eat something that had fallen in the dirt. Or, hells, eat dirt. Likely would have done it too. _ How times change. _He felt old, all of a sudden. He knew he wasn’t. But looking at them, thinking how long ago that felt. He took a bite of pastry and chewed on it ruefully. 

“Don’t thank him too often, he’ll be insufferable,” Alphinaud teased under the guidance of advice, wearing maturity rather well save a few errant crumbs. 

Aidan scoffed,“I can be perfectly sufferable.” While they ate, he removed his pilfered deck and started shuffling, counting them out to be certain there was an even number. Alisaie recognized them immediately.

“Did you steal Honoura's deck from her saddlebag?” 

“Borrowed, thank you,” A gentle correction, “Puttin’ ‘em back before you lot go to Rak’Tika, don't worry. Want to play?" 

"What, with us?" 

He gestured flippantly at all three of them,"You see anyone else here willing to have fun?"

"I don't know how to play." An answer he expected from Minfilia -- it wasn't like Thancred's deck made it either. Thank the Twelve for _ that _ small blessing.

"Then it's a lucky thing I'm here! We'll have you ready to challenge anyone," Aidan tapped the tip of her nose with a card, "So what say you?"

The first few rounds were all about reviewing rules and practice; it’d been a year since the three Eorzeans had played. Each of them recalled their preferred playstyle best and could only offer Minfilia muddled tips about the others. The twins’ competitive streaks roared to life so fiercely Aidan and Minfilia mutually decided it was better they play each other. Keen he might be for company, he knew those looks all too well.

Her resemblance was nothing short of uncanny. He never got a good look before; Thancred kept his trips to the Crystarium brief, for mutually assured safety. Now, sitting in front of him, Aidan noted the similarities. The soft blue of her eyes, flaxen hair, they could be sisters. Or mother and daughter, he supposed, if you considered the passage of time. In lieu of herself, Minfilia sent a legacy.

They differed vastly in personality. The Minfilia he remembered never took him seriously; she peppered their conversations with giggles at his expense when other Scions rolled their eyes. Humoring his attempts to humor her. He missed that now. What did he ever say to her to cheer her? Aidan couldn’t remember. 

Apparently it was something too foolish to commit to recollection. Another regret to stew on, nestled next to fights he had with his parents and a million other little tragedies since.

This little Oracle was shyer, more reticent. She was also, presently, going a bit cross eyed examining her cards. 

“Need some help?” he asked.

“Um… yes please.” She neatly spread them out before -- there were no bets on the line. 

Squinting, he picked up one card, with a Mandragora on it, and held it up. “If it were me, this one. Weakest one in your deck to lose this round,” he advised, “It gets easier with practice. If you ever want to, ask my sisters. They’re a little less cutthroat than those two over there.” They'd _ be _less ruthless for her, anyroad.

“Really? It wouldn’t be any trouble?” 

“Nah, they like to play. If anything they’ll turn you into Thancred’s worst nightmare at this game.” He flinched when her face fell at the joke. Good job. “Hardest part will be getting Noura to sit still for a game if she thinks there’s work she can get done.” A recovery, maybe. He amended it to a failure when she kept quiet.

“Minfilia?” The name felt alien on his tongue; it didn’t suit her. It tasted more of a title than a name, and a heavy one. A century of girls fighting back sin eaters and little else. Aidan never had his own story growing up either. He'd been a bit part in everyone else's. The troublemaker. The black sheep. His grandmother finally just called him "the boy" before she stopped calling him anything at all. 

At least G'raha hadn't sugarcoated the truth; he'd give the Exarch that much. No one softened the edges here. They liked him. But he was **a ** Warrior, not ** _the _ **Warrior.

“Thancred would say it's best I don't get underfoot," she said, quietly, in a way that discomfited his brotherly nature. Minfilia worried at one of her ribbons, radiating an aura of uncertainty. Sensing the Triad lessons for today were over, he quietly pried the rest of her cards away to shuffle. 

“I know what it's like. Feeling you're in the way. That anything you do won't measure up.” Aidan tapped the edges of the cards to neaten them up,“Seems like anything you do you’ll either get criticized or compared to someone else. ‘S unfair, isn’t it?”

"I'll never be her."

"Course not. That's the unfair part. You shouldn't be. You're you," he stated,"You're enough. I promise." He tapped the tip of her nose again. An old gesture from childhood used on a different child.

Minfilia smiled a little, buoyed a bit. It didn't fix everything. But it helped. "Show me Reverse rules again, please." 

"Oh, good choice. Honoura likes that rule set," he grinned,"I can teach you how to shuffle, if you like."

"Yes please."

"Yes ma'am."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I accidentally realized there were more in common between the two trios after writing this? Anyway, both the RP and WoL version, Aidan's the middle child of four kids and the only son. 
> 
> I sort of view sending him, Lyse, and Alisaie to Doma unsupervised as just letting the three people with the least amount of impulse control out of your sight. You left them alone for 10 minutes and now everything's just gone to chaos. Worse, the three people responsible for that chaos can now avoid you by sitting at the bottom of a lake for a couple of hours if they want.


End file.
